Time
by SweetG
Summary: -Puckurt, pre-slash- ...Three weeks. New Directions practices for regionals; Rachel sings like an angel, being succesfully annoying and moving at the same time; Finn manages; he sings an array of songs that make him sound sick, stricken, and thoughtful.
1. Chapter 1

Tic, toc. Tic, toc. Tic, toc.

Time is fleeting, ephemeral; it's incredible how it's such a big deal when it can't be seen, or touched, or grasped. It's funny how it exists within the realm of human fantasy.

Hilarious, _stupid_.

But, still, time goes by. And we go by.

A week is made out of seven days (168 hours, 10080 minutes. God knows how many seconds). That's how long Puck lasts, until he's got to confront her.

"So, why'd you do it?" She's so pristine, and looks lonely ( ...pale skin and a uniform that doesn't fit right -so wrong _wrong_ wrong- and an immaculate _I'm fine, thanks for asking. t_hat was so much bullshit it was ridiculous).

Rachel (pretty, naive, possibly dysfunctional in more than one sense) bites her lips and looks like she could either start crying or break into a song at any moment Both possibilities frighten (and/or irritate, to be fair and honest and shit) Puck.

But she doesn't go with any of those options, she just grabs his shoulders and stands on her toes. He's then met with an intense gaze, full of mixed emotions, and swirling colours; and, _whoa_, Berry's got prettier eyes than he remembered.

"You saw it." She stops, bites her lip, seems to get a little lost inside her own musings

(whichever they are). Then she goes on, rushed, anxious: her voice dripping emotion and sincerity, "It's not just me being paranoid or controlling. He wasn't happy there. He _isn't_ happy there, Noah. He's just... He's not."

She doesn't sound scared. She sounds concerned. So concerned, that Puck is the one left pretty scared.

_**;;;,,,;;;**_

In seven days, two hundred and fifty messages are sent.

Within the first two days Puck starts feeling lighter, after he notices that every reply he gets is clever and witty, sophisticated and covered in ahealthy dose of sarcasm. It convinces him about the fact that underneath it all, Kurt's still himself.

_So wassup?_

_You, apparently. Have you taken notice of the time, Noah? It's 2 a.m._

_Dont b a buzzkilla dude_

_Will grammar really bite your head__ off if you approach it?_

_oh dont get in my case hummel. u make__ me feel unloved_

_This is too much for me. I'm heading for bed. Do the same, and if you don't, still refrain from keeping me updated._

_u know u love me ;)_

_Goodnight, Noah._

(Puck wants more. Wants to talk for hours, to _be there_, to let the other kid vent. To get closer, to help.T_o bring him back_. Despite his understanding of the situation.

Puck also doesn't want to scare him away, so he sticks with the playful banter.)

_**:::...:::**_


	2. Chapter 2

Only two weeks (14 of the strangest days he's ever gotten to live through) go by after that first stuttering attempt at communicating (_how r u, dude?_), even though it feels like forever ago.

Talking to him via text messages is pretty much like hiding his head in the sand. Or as much hiding as someone like him will indulge in; after all, he is the Puckasawrus, and thus, too badass to hide.

Still. He's afraid that something too big will happen if he faces Kurt Hummel now, and he doubts he's ready for whatever will be.

(Doors have been pushed of their hinges, windows have been broken into; something _too big_ has already happened, something _too important_, something _majestic._

If he could only tell_ what _that was.)

_**:::...:::**_

Three weeks.

New Directions practices for regionals; Rachel sings like an angel, being succesfully annoying and moving at the same time; Finn manages; Aretha shines (holding onto her music the way she would've held her boy if he was with them); he sings an array of songs that make him sound _sick_, _stricken_, _thoughtful_.

"You may be the tiniest bit in love." Quinn is all pretty lips, all sunshine, all everything nice and beautiful (redemption written all over her body, all over her soul; how can she still remain this _pure_?); her eyes are alight with something that could very well be affection.

In the choir room, alone with her –hand in hand for the sake of old times, and to honour all the love they've shared- he embraces realisation.

Somewhere along the line he fell. Fell hard and fast.

_**:::...:::**_

Three weeks is almost a month, but not quite.

There's been progress. Now that Puck is not taking a trip down the Nile, he can see that. He can see that Kurt keeps sounding brighter and brighter, and strangely more affectionate towards him (in all his Kurt-ness, that is. Which mostly means he keeps the intellectual bashing to a minimum).

Their texts are now a little less about the good natured, playful teasing and more about anything and everything else.

_2day __schus hair looks liek sumthing outta that 70s show. ud have such a field day_

_There's at least one gu__y here that's even more flaming than me. I am still appropriately rendered speechless._

_britt just asked if her cat can join glee. WTF_

_Can you believe most of these boys have never heard of a swirlie or a patriotic wedgie, Noah? It's almost like stepping into another dimension._ (That one made Puck laugh so hard that his math teacher had to make him leave the classroom.)

_feelin__ down. ma and Sarah are gone to sumthin sumthin. playing mario kart alone sucks hairy balls._

_I miss my dad. I miss preparing his meals and hearing him complain about the lack of taste. I miss hugging him everyday._

Something inside him thinks there's a kind of relentless beauty to the fact that it took them drifting physically apart to get them to be friends (or good acquaintances of the literary kind) like they are now.

Most of him would kill that something and bury it somewhere far far away.

Kurt having to go away should never be _beautiful._

_**:::...:::**_

A month. Thirty days of bonding are what takes Puck to notice Blaine.

Before then, he only thought about him as the _You're so gangsta, I'm so thug_ kid from that preppy school that thought himself way cooler than he was.

But obviously Kurt knows him as more than that (and probably also thinks the guy's way cooler than he is), he talks about this kid like the sun comes out of his ass.

Kurt _likes_ the guy. A lot. In a _'I'm gay for you, let me have your impossible babies'_ way.

He's hit with such a tidal wave of jealousy (curling and uncurling, and pulling at his guts from the inside) that he's equal parts astonished and worried. He's only ever felt this way once before, and _that_ particular feeling led to a particularly shitty situation for everyone remotely involved (_perfection came to him once, pink soft small fragile_).

Puck may hate this Blaine dude a little.

_**:::...:::**_

_that blaine guy sounds like a jerk_

_Noah, don't. _

_**:::...:::**_


End file.
